


A Study in Watson

by Mayphoenix



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayphoenix/pseuds/Mayphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is a living, breathing forensics database.  He requires information on all subjects -- including his friend and colleague, John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Watson

**Author's Note:**

> For Sara, who keeps my mind active

He knows there are 243 different types of ash.

 

He knows there are different types of soil located all around Great Britain, and that the silica found in the mud on a man’s boot sole can pinpoint his precise whereabouts on a given day. 

 

He knows there are a wide assortment of plant spores, and can tell a flower by the consistency of the pollen it produces.

 

Now, Sherlock Holmes has a new subject to study: Dr. John Hamish Watson.  He wants to know and catalog everything about his colleague.  He is well acquainted with John’s appearance – how he looks when he’s happy, angry, sad, and completely pissed from a night out with Stamford at the pubs; he knows the sounds he makes – his regional accent, the timbre of his voice according to his moods, his odd nasal giggle, his exasperated sighs. Sherlock has decided to proceed to the various scents associated with him. 

 

To begin, there are the chemicals he uses – soaps, shampoo, toothpaste, aftershave, deodorant – which interact with his body’s own natural fluids – saliva, sweat, oils – to create distinctive odors which are uniquely John.

 

There is the smell of his breath in the morning when he’s first awakened and has yet to brush his teeth or have a cup of coffee.  There is the smell of his breath after he’s had tea, or toast and jam, or the garlic-heavy linguine from Angelo’s. 

 

_Side note: Garlic also affects the scent of one’s sweat, urine and fecal matter._

 

He knows what John has had to eat in the last twenty-four hours judging by the air in the loo after he’s evacuated his bowels.  He knows when John’s had a few at the pub because of the heavy note of yeast when he’s had a piss.

 

_Side note: Avoid asking John to confirm his dietary intake at these times; despite being a doctor, he finds discussing his own excretions to be highly embarrassing._

 

He has noticed a difference in the makeup of John’s sweat.  In summer, when the flat grows insufferably hot, his sweat has a light odor.  When they’ve been chasing down a suspect and he’s been running, there is a more pungent aroma emitting from his armpits.  And when he is frightened, when he imagines he’s being stalked by a great hound set loose in a top-secret laboratory, there is a sharp edge to his perspiration, cold and disturbing. 

 

_Side note: Fear is not a good scent for John Watson._

 

There are other smells he would like to categorize.  Others he knows exist but he has not had the chance to discover.  These would require special circumstances, controlled environments for his study, and he knows from John’s repeated declarations that there is no chance he will ever be able to learn these things on his own.  He has tried to catch a whiff after John’s come home from a date, hoping to pick up the lingering hint of sex, knowing he will have to isolate the masculine from the feminine in order to get anything close to an accurate sample.  He is aware John masturbates, and has listened and waited until he has finished, slipped into his room and found semen-soiled tissues in the bin beside John’s bed.  He has pressed his nose to the sheets and inhaled the spot where John last rested, hoping to chase that elusive aroma of sexual struggle and release. 

 

_Side note: Perhaps it is better to wait until John has gone to the clinic before investigating his room; he does not appreciate returning from the shower to discover his flat mate sniffing his discarded pants._

 

He has smelled John’s blood.  It’s the same as most blood, a metallic edge, but it is John’s and Sherlock does not like the methods that have been applied in order for him to receive that information.  He does not like to see those he holds dear harmed in any way.  It makes him angry and being angry makes it difficult to think.  And he always needs to think.

 

Lately, he has been thinking of the other aspects of John Watson he would like to study.  He has a nearly complete lexicon of reference in regards to visual, audio, and olfactory.  He requires more data when it comes to tactile sensation.  The only heading under which he has no sensory information is oral.  He wonders how John would react to being tasted.  Considering the response to having his flatulence discussed, Sherlock holds little hope for any positive reaction to his request for a lick or two.  He might have to resort to other methods to retrieve the needed facts. 

 

_Side note: Kiss him as he sleeps._

 

He waits for the right opportunity, the night when he can conduct this experiment.  John finishes the update to his blog, closes his laptop.  He stretches, yawns, and rises from his chair.  “That’s it for me,” he announces, and sends a smile in Sherlock’s direction as he heads for the door.  “I’m off to bed.  Good night, Sherlock.”

 

Pretending to be engrossed in thought, Sherlock waves a dismissive hand and gives a distracted reply.  “Good night, John.”  He listens as John leaves the room, following his footsteps to the bathroom.  Hears him go about his ritual of bladder-voiding and brushing of teeth before heading upstairs to his bedroom.  Hears the groan of floorboards, the open and close of dresser drawers, and at last the creak of bedsprings as John settles in to sleep.  Sherlock waits.  He checks his watch.  Twenty minutes should do it, best to give it thirty just to be sure.  Fingers steepled, he thinks about what he will do, how quickly and carefully he must act while still giving himself the necessary time to perform his task. 

 

 At the appointed time, he climbs the steps to John’s room.  The door is open but the room beyond is dark.  No matter – Sherlock has memorized the layout of every room in the flat.  He knows exactly how far it is from the door to John’s bed.  He counts off the distance in his head and is soon standing over his flat mate, looking down at him, eyes adjusted to the darkness enough that he can make out the relaxed features.  John sleeps on his back, one hand up by his head, the other across his stomach.  His breathing is deep, even.  He is in a perfect state of repose. 

 

Sherlock notes that his own fingertips have suddenly become moist and his pulse has elevated slightly.  _Curious_.  He licks his lips in preparation, knowing that John’s flavor will adhere to his own saliva and make it easier for him to identify.  Bending down, he brushes his mouth ever so lightly across John’s.  In his sleep, John responds – as Sherlock expected he might – his lips moving, parting.  Encouraged, Sherlock eases the tip of his tongue inside, the barest touch, and he can taste John’s toothpaste. 

 

When he has decided he has enough data for now, he begins to pull away.  At that moment, John breathes out a soft sigh.  Sherlock pauses, hovering, and isn’t it strange how his heart is beating so much harder now than before?  For a moment, he considers a second kiss – just to be certain he has the information he needs – but before he can act, there is a pressure at the back of his neck.  It takes all of three seconds to realize it is John’s hand, and that he’s holding on to Sherlock’s head.  And his eyes are open.  And he’s staring up at Sherlock.  Even in the dark, Sherlock can see the unspoken question in those eyes.  He hesitates, because he can’t think – _he can’t think_ – of what to say.

 

Then John breaks the silence, his voice a soft rasp.  “If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask.”  Sherlock’s mouth opens in surprise but before he can speak John leans up and claims his lips.  Now Sherlock can taste more, and John seems to be conducting his own experiment because his tongue is moving around, licking and lapping, and Sherlock wonders what he must taste like to John…

_Side note: John smells intoxicating during sex, and tastes just as amazing.  He is a feast for the senses which I am now certain I shall always crave._

_Conclusion: Sensory study of Dr. John Hamish Watson is now complete, but will require constant reassessment of information.  John seems to be quite agreeable to this._

 

 

-fin-


End file.
